


Rooftop Pizza Club

by shenala



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 23:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18020414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenala/pseuds/shenala
Summary: Prompt: You're going to need to eat something if you want to run from cops all day.But his coveted peace was cut short when moments later a blur of red crashed onto the roof just a few inches away from his bottle of beer.Turning to face the interruption with an eyebrow cocked, Clint greeted his visitor, "I thought your spidey-senses", the last word he punctuated his speech with air quotes, "were meant to help you land gracefully..."





	Rooftop Pizza Club

Clint was perfectly happy, thank you very much. He'd created himself a cosy little nook (use the word "nest" at your own peril) on the roof that gave him a great view over the city while simultaneously shielding him from the view of anyone else who decided to take a trip to the highest point of the tower. He would know they were there long before they noticed him, even if he didn't have his hearing aids on. 

"Yeah, this isn't too bad at all", Clint thought to himself as he leaned back against the entrance to the vent he had climbed through and continued making his way through his picnic of pizza and beer, set to the spectacular backdrop of Manhattan at sunset. 

But his coveted peace was cut short when moments later a blur of red crashed onto the roof just a few inches away from his bottle of beer. 

Turning to face the interruption with an eyebrow cocked, Clint greeted his visitor, "I thought your spidey-senses", the last word he punctuated his speech with air quotes, "were meant to help you land gracefully..." 

Cautiously picking himself up from the undignified sprawl he'd landed in Peter turned to his team-mate with a sheepish grin, "I, uh, might've overestimated on the jump", getting a snort of amusement in reply. 

Shaking his head Clint held out the pizza box to offer the teenager a slice, "yeah I'd say you overestimated just a bit. Any particular reason you decided to launch yourself onto the roof of this fine establishment?" 

At the question, Peter attempted a reassuring smile around the pizza stuffed in his mouth and would've mumbled an answer if Clint hadn't waggled a finger in his direction with a curt "nuh-uh, don't talk with your mouth full." 

Food now swallowed Peter could give a timid reply, "well, uh, so the thing is I was trying to help this guy but it turned out he didn't need my help and then the police turned up and somehow I ended up running away from them, I'm not even sure what I did but they didn't seem keen on talking so I thought Mr Stark might be able to help me sort it out but I didn't want to come to the front door so I thought the roof would be a good idea but I jumped a bit too hard and then had to correct to stop from going over the other side and then I landed here, and interrupted you, which I'm really sorry about Mr Barton, Hawkeye, Sir, and now I'm rambling, oh and thank you for the pizza, I haven't eaten since breakfast, why can't I stop talk---" 

Taking pity on him Clint slapped a hand over Peter's mouth to stem the incessant babbling, waiting a few seconds to ensure the silence would stick before removing it. "Sounds like you've had a hard day kid, you're going to need to eat something if you want to run from cops all day" he advised, handing over the pizza box again with the assurance that Peter could keep that one to himself as Clint started on another box. 

Giving his small collection of beer bottles a glance, he sighed and turned to lean into the vent, "you can't have beer though, not sure who'd be more pissed at me, Tony, Cap or your Aunt, here ya go" Clint added as he threw Peter a bottle of water that he appeared to magic out of nowhere, although that, in reality, came from one of Clint's many air-vent stashes. 

"Thanks, Mr Barton" came the pizza-muffled reply.

Shaking his head in amusement at both the formality and the situation, Clint settled himself back into a comfortable position, "call me Clint, kid, you're a fugitive now. Welcome to the club, we have badges."


End file.
